Breaking Point
by LampshadesCantSaveYouNow
Summary: Mason Verger has an unhealthy fascination with a patient from the insane asylum named Will Graham. Will struggles to escape the cycle of torture he's forced to endure, and considers turning to an old friend. However, escaping is barely an option when no one believes him...no one except Hannibal.


**Hello readers~**

A quick warning for everyone who is about to read this fiction: It contains acts of violence, sadism, torture and rape. If you are not into that sort of thing...too bad. Hahaha.

This fiction takes place in the Hannibal universe before Will is released from the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. I have decided to use Mason Verger as the antagonist simply because his character is described as sadistic and sexually abusive.

Sorry for the lack of a diverse vocabulary; I'm not a writer.

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**Chapter 1: The First Night**

A prison cell is no place for a man whose mind and thoughts are constantly on the 'highest setting'. Will Graham silently sits in a small room that offers no escape, no distractions – just him and himself. According to time, it must be around midnight, yet Will is still awake. He lays on his cot and ponders. He thinks so much that his mind and eyes are exhausted.

He hears the gates outside the cell blocks open. He is aware but makes no effort to see who is there. The silhouettes of three men stand in front of his cell long enough to gain his attention. Will peers over his chest, then quietly sits up on his elbows. He waits for them to initiate conversation.

"Stand up, you've been summoned." Says one of the guards, who holds a straight jacket between both hands. Will sits up all the way, draping his legs over the cot. He pretends not to be as interested in them as he actually is.

"At this time?" Will asks with a tired, monotone voice. He runs a hand over his head to mat his hair down. He sees the guard's faces but does not recognize them.

"Stand up." The man repeats once more. They open the gate and approach him unarmed, which was unorthodox. The lack of proper procedure is alarming. The three men seem robotic and trained. With no choice but to obey, Will stands and faces them. The guards act fast in properly restraining Will into the jacket, acting as though they are in a hurry. They retrain his feet with chains to prevent him from running.

"Can I ask where we're going?" Will asks but receives no answer. He reassures himself that there would be no reason to raise alarm.

The bulky guard pulls out the mask and reach it towards Will's face. He pulls away.

"Where am I going?" Will gets louder and more demanding. There is another attempt to place the mask over his face but he avoids it. Strong hands hold his head in place. "I just-"

The mask is shoved into his face to silence him. The men tighten the mask with such force, it uncomfortably digs into Will's cheeks. His jaw is immoveable. The last bit of restriction is a blindfold that is placed over his eyes and tied around the back of his head. Will feels uneasy. He is completely at their mercy in this place, so he follows their lead with no resistance.

Will is lead out the cell and into the unknown.

* * *

A series of alternating left and right turns lead them to a stop, followed by a deep, bellowing creaking sound. Will is then lead down a staircase and guided by the men with hands placed beneath his pits. The deeper he goes into this maze, the more disorientated he becomes.

A bit more walking is done, then Will is planted in a spot and left alone. The men leave whatever room they are in and close the door behind them. Will feels a need to protect himself from the elements. He waits for something to happen.

"You don't know me," Said an anonymous voice, "but I know plenty of you."

Will turns his head towards the voice. The mask prevents him from asking fundamental questions.

The man in the room, otherwise known as Mason Verger, steps in front of Will and removes his blindfold. Their eye contact lasts only a second before Will becomes more interested in his surrounding. They stood in a small, dimly lit room where a single bed can be seen with no pillows or blankets. There are no decorations, only concrete floor and brick walls. The room is cold and smells of misery.

"I think this is going to be more fun for me if you don't know anything. Bad things are going to happen to you for no reason and it'll drive you a little nuts." Mason laughs with almost intentional insanity and grabs Will by his arm to lead him to the bed. Will's legs stiffen in protest, halting himself at the foot of the bed.

"You're an intelligent man. You must have some idea of your purpose here." Mason says.

Will stares at Mason and the confusion is apparent. The idea he has in his head is too outrageous to possibly be true. His breathing visibly increases and his mask becomes fogged over. He is turned around by Mason, as easily as a rag doll, and bent over the bed. An attempt to stand back up fails with another playful shove by Mason. With his restraints, it is impossible to gain any advantage. Mason is playing with him and laughing as he does.

Will yells something inaudible as his head is pressed against the bedding. Will repeats himself over again, trying desperately to be heard. He squirms enough to turn himself around to face his attacker. Greedy and impatient hands grab at Will's pants to lower them, but Will's thrashing slows the process. Mason enjoys a struggle, it makes the end game rewarding.

"Wait." Will is trying to speak, but words are hard to form with a centimeter of available jaw movement.

"Will you stop already, Willy?" Mason uses a pet name to further degrade him. He puts a hand over his mask, not realizing he is actually cutting his air flow. Mason then sits on Will's chest like a piece of furniture. His legs rest on both sides of Will, trapping the smaller man underneath him.

"Wait." Will repeats, gasping for what little oxygen Mason is allowing him to have.

"Oops, sorry." Mason releases his hand from Will's mask. "You want to say something?" He coos. Will nods his head with urgency. Mason lifts Will's head to reach the straps behind his head. He yanks the mask off not-too-gently, rustling Will's hair in the process.

"I have connections," Will wastes no time in releasing his voice of reason, "If there's something you want, something you need, I can get you anything." He's good at selling people, but his voice is losing confidence.

"Well," Mason begins, looking up and placing a finger on his face in thought, "I already have a lot of money, so there's that." He waves his hand around his head. "I mean, I can really do anything I want with that. I've got myself a life-sized doll of Will Graham, don't I?"

"Who are you?" Will asks, stretching time. His eyes study Mason for any sort of empathy he can squeeze out of him, but finds nothing. Who the fuck is this guy and what does he want with him?

"You know, I can see the appeal in you." Mason ignores his question, fascinated by Will's features. He runs a hand through Will's hair, which is matted against his forehead with sweat. His hand then cups his jawline as he runs his thumb across his cheek. "You're cute when you're trying to hide how terrified you are."

He sticks his thumb into Will's mouth, feeling his tongue. Will gags and furrows his brow in shock.

"So, out of curiosity, do you have experience in giving oral?" Mason asks nonchalantly. A wave of sickness flows from Will's gut, and towards his head, temporarily paralyzing him. "Or am I going to be your first? I'm kinda hoping for that."

Fight or flight overwhelms Will, but in this case, both don't seem like a bad idea. Will bites down with the force of a predator onto the thumb that's in his mouth and breaks his skin. Mason screams at the sudden painful retaliation. He jumps off the bed, dragging Will with him as he struggles to free himself. Will vigorously shakes his head back and forth, like a wolf tearing a piece of meat off its prey.

"Let go, you psycho!" Mason yells. Will lets him go and follows with an andrenaline-rushed headbutt to his face. Mason, who doesn't take hits very well, falls to the floor in a temporary state of unconsciousness. Will makes his escape and hobbles to the door with a piece of Mason's skin stuck in between his teeth. He opens the door with his mouth, turning the handle with his teeth, and scurries out the room, nearly falling as he does.

Will is lost. He has never been in these corridors before, nor does he remember how he got here. Every turn looks the same. His body can't keep up with his panic. Somewhere down the hallway, he trips over his chains, and unable to use his arms to stop his fall, he face plants. Standing back up proves to be much more difficult without using your arms and legs than he thought.

"Help!" He yells to no one in particular. He flips over on his back and rocks himself to sit up. He hears upcoming foot steps from the general direction he came from, and realizes he drew the wrong attention to him. He won't make it in time on his own. "Someone! Help me!"

While in the process of standing upright, Will's captor grabs a fistful of his hair, reels back, and slams his head against the stone wall. Will crumbles in pain, but Mason's grip on his hair prevents him from hitting the floor.

"You fucked up." Mason speaks through a hot, short breath. He gets in Will's personal bubble at an attempt of intimidation. "You really just fucked up. You thought what I was going to do to you _before_ was bad, _naaahh._"

Will spits in his face. He braces himself for impact.

Mason wipes the saliva off his face with a single motion. A sound escapes Mason's throat that resembles the squeal of a pig, and next thing Will knows, he's being dragged down the hall by his hair. Will screams, making as much noise as possible, doing anything to be heard by a third party. His feet scramble to find the floor to support himself. He turns his body to face the floor and hurriedly walks alongside Mason to relieve the pressure on his head.

Mason brings Will back to the room. Entering the room becomes a challenge when Will hooks his legs around the door frame. Mason pulls but Will won't budge.

"You're not getting me in there with you!" Will screams, his breathing becoming more rapid. "_Help!_"

"I'm going to fuck you up so bad, you won't be able to walk tomorrow." Mason hugs Will from behind and puts all his weight into pulling him in. Will's legs are about to give out, and when he realizes it, he lets out a small, involuntary cry. Then, suddenly, a voice is heard from down the hall.

"What on earth is going on here?" Dr. Chilton rushes to the commotion, a clipboard tucked between his arm and torso. Mason drops Will when he sees the doctor at the door. Will hits the floor with a thud. Talk about saving the day just in time.

_'I've never been so glad to see you.'_ Will thinks. He grimaces and slowly sits up. "Thank God you came." His voice is soft.

"Dr. Chilton," Mason stammers, "Everything is-"

"What happened to your hand?" Dr. Chilton asks Mason. The blood running down Mason's thumb and hand doesn't go unnoticed.

"Him." Mason says venomously, gesturing his head towards Will. "He happened."

"You fool," Dr. Chilton began. He took Will by his arm and lifted him to his feet. He never breaks eye contact with Mason. "That's why we put the mask on for you. All someone would need to do is match his teeth marks to your wound and you would get us both in trouble." His voice is raising with anger. He is talking about Will as if he isn't there. Mason takes the scolding with admitted defeat.

"You two are working together?" Will feels sick and weak.

"Now you have to drug him." Dr. Chilton thins his lips in annoyance. He says as though he was opposed to the idea in the first place. He briefly acknowledges Will. "He can't know I'm here while you're doing this. He has to forget."

"Yeah well that's what I wanted to do anyway so...I guess it all works out." Mason shrugs.

Dr. Chilton shoves Will at Mason, who catches him just before his knees buckle. "You paid for an hour. You don't have much time left." His voice trails as he turns around. "And don't let me catch him outside this room like that ever again."

"Got it." Mason responds with a bloody thumbs up. Will is frozen.

"Wait." Will pleads. "Frederick."

The doctor leaves the room and closes the door behind him. The room suddenly becomes much darker. Will is fading out.

"So..." Mason begins, placing both hands on Will's shoulders. He could feel him shaking, but couldn't determine if it was from weakness or from fear. "Oral is out of the question then, right?"

Will simply crumbles like a puppet with cut strings. Mason leaves him on the floor and walks over to the door and locks it. He then grabs a syringe from a kit on the table, pumps a liquid into it, and prepares the injection. Mason can't help but feel this session is wasted if the victim isn't awake for it. He may need to purchase another one.

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Well, hope you guys liked the first chapter. Hopefully there are no typos, I double-checked everything. I plan on writing maybe 2 or 3 more. It won't be too long. If you took the time to read, please leave a review and let me know what you guys think. It'll be much appreciated. Thank you!

**Fun fact: For the part where Will falls while in the straight jacket and chained ankles, I actually went into my bathroom and mimicked what it would be like for him to stand up. I had some dedication to make it feel more realistic.**


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